Double, Double Toil and Trouble; Fire Burn, and Cauldron Bubble
"Have you noticed my red eye?" Gloria asked as I walked into the kitchen."Red eye?" It took me three weeks to notice that she'd put some kind of fall dried flower bundle on the front door, and I only noticed it then because it scratched my face.
"Here, take a look." Gloria does her best Marty Feldman impersonation, and I can definitely see a band of angry red outside the iris.
"Good grief!" I said. "Why are you still wearing your contacts?"
"I don't think the contacts have anything to do with it." The five hundred pound elephant here is that Gloria hates wearing her glasses, and will create any one of several dozen pretexts to avoid putting them on.
"So your eye is darkly red right next to the iris, but there's no chance that the contacts were a contributing factor?"
"I don't think so," she said.
"You're probably right. Plus, I'm sure that glass eye technology has really advanced in the last ten years. You'll probably be able to get one that looks almost identical."
"I do wear my glasses when I have to," she said.
"If you had a screwdriver sticking out of your eye socket, you'd still be wearing your contacts," I said. "If I asked you about it, you'd say 'I think it's fine--I just need to be careful near walls.' "
"I can't wear my glasses," she said. "They make me look like a hag."
"Actually, hag is a very complex look," I said. "Nobody can pull it off just by wearing glasses."
"And I can't see anything with these glasses," she said. "My peripheral vision is terrible."
"Because you wanted lenses the size of almond slivers," I said. "You didn't want lenses large enough to actually see anything because of the imaginary hag factor."
I'm actually a big fan of the librarian hottie look, which is really what her glasses make her look like. She looks in the mirror, though, and sees something straight out of Macbeth.
I hope she makes an easy, one-cauldron meal tonight.
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